


falling into one place

by ppareun_georeum (Raven_K1ng)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Cuddling, Ice Cream, Kissing, M/M, Swimming Pool, and i need to vent about how romantically deprived i am, jihoon calls mingyu a bitch like once, jihoon is a bad boy i guess, lapslock, these are all dummy soft because i'm dummy soft, these kids need to sleep, vaguely illegal activity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-01-05 14:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18367721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_K1ng/pseuds/ppareun_georeum
Summary: it goes like this: there are a million and one iterations of you holding my whole heart; for i have built a million and one hearts to fall for you, over and over again.





	1. break water

**Author's Note:**

> seokhoon ; prompt:"we're going to get arrested"

"this is a terrible idea."

"oh," jihoon cackles, "absolutely." he grunts as he pulls himself up on the edge of the fence, lips curled in a quiet little cheshire smile as he stares down at seokmin. it's a compelling sight, this late at night, distant streetlamps curving over his shoulders like he might have brought about three miracles already. even the way he nearly tumbles to the ground, landing on all fours, is an image seokmin can only describe with the word grace. 

"we're going to get arrested," seokmin mumbles, distracted. his fingers are hooked in the holes in the fence, and then jihoons are hooked over, warm and gorgeous over his knobby digits. jihoon grins, sharp. he presses up to the fence with gleaming eyes. 

"that would be so ass," he drawls. 

seokmin climbs the fence. 

neither of them have swimsuits, but neither of them wants to admit the embarrassment. wordlessly, seokmin turns away and undresses, his neck and ears burning as he shoves his pile of clothing as far from the pool's edge as possible. by the time he turns around, jihoon is already in halfway in the pool. 

there's something to be said about the sudden jump of his heart as he traces the water sighing along the lines of jihoon's back. in the space of a breath he is watching jihoon come home to the water. he swims like it's where he belongs, and seokmin can't help the way his chest fills with something warm and heavy. 

once jihoon notices he's not in the pool yet, he swims and levers himself up on the edge. perhaps he can sense the way seokmin is struck, or perhaps he feels, too, that this is just short of a level of intimate neither of them have the breath to speak about in anything other than hushed tones. when he says, "come here," its imploring, not challenging; as if jihoon has to ask, as if seokmin isn't already barreling on towards following him to the ends of the earth. 

seokmin takes a step forward.


	2. shade of red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jigyu ; prompt:"what are you thinking about?"

jihoon pushes the orange stick against the edges of mingyu's nails, deft and steady as mingyu flinches his hands away at the slightest bit of pain. 

"if you don't hold still," jihoon grumbles in warning, but he continues his motions with the same vigor, much to mingyu's chagrin. still, mingyu does as he's told, obedient as jihoon presses at his cuticles one by one. 

mingyu's nails are blunted and short from biting, a problem few had ever made the effort to address. mingyu, ever the self-creator, decided on a whim that he wanted that to change, and so one night, before photoshoot, jihoon returned to their dorm far too late for decent sleep to find mingyu attempting to paint his nails on his own. the inky black of nail polish was spread all over the skin surrounding his nails. on some whim - maybe it was the hour, or the sight of mingyu inhaling polish fumes with purpose and verve - jihoon offered to help, but it wasn't as if he was any more capable of nail painting.

"what are you thinking about?" mingyu asks.

jihoon smiles, smoothing maroon over mingyu's slow growing nails. with a steady hand, he slides his nail along the sides of mingyu's to get rid of any excess polish, moving on to the next nail. it is somehow pleasing to see that painted nails can deter the most notorious nail biter.

"i'm thinking about how ugly your nails looked the first time you painted them," jihoon says pleasantly.

mingyu whines, pushing at jihoons shoulder with the palm of his hand, fingers arched to keep them from smearing, and amidst jihoon's giggling he messes up the hand he's putting a second coat on, smudging them with his thumb. 

"dammit," they say at the same time, which only leads to more laughing. 

mingyu's hand is still in his even as he leans over and presses his face to mingyu's shoulder, his own shaking with mirth. like any night they do this, it’s far too late for them to be alive, but both seek the silence that comes with being alone together and awake for it. his chest feels three sizes too large, and he's about to do something stupid. 

he brings mingyu's hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to his knuckles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just think mingyu deserves to get his nails painted and his hands kissed


	3. dream in summer colors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> verkwan ; prompt:"this is why we can't have nice things"

the air-conditioner in the dorm cranks and wheezes warm air through its filters. vernon knows its broken, but their last fan died a tragic death that involved a lot of heat-exhaustion induced tears just the week before, so he has no choice but to set up a chair and try not to move. seungkwan, sweating, offers ice cream, so it is certainly a better solution than what he's already dealing with. 

the summer night rests heavy over the city lights, sticky like molasses. It makes time feel just as slow, and even the inside of the 24 hour 7-eleven two blocks down isn't immune - the cashier who rings them up moves like an exhausted turtle, and the emptiness of the mart is like a dream in the drip of honey. they buy two double popsicles and a coconut bar (it is vernon's turn to pick the shared flavor, after all) with all the change in their pockets and a bunch of luck - because neither of them thought to bring their wallets - and step out to the edge of the store's parking lot to eat. 

vernon ends up paying more attention to the way seungkwan is wholly focused on getting his half of the cherry-flavored double popsicle than he does splitting the popsicle in the first place, so he breaks it off so half of one popsicle stays stuck to the other, uneven. 

"damn it vernon," seungkwan complains. he takes the smaller popsicle before vernon can offer the bigger, and mutters, "this is why we can't have nice things." 

vernon giggles out a, "sorry," before biting the extra bit on his popsicle clean off. 

seungkwan gets halfway through his - he's "not a heathen" who "just bites it clean off that’s just so terrifying please i can't watch it'" - but it ends up sliding off his stick and landing on the concrete in front of him. vernon says, "this is why we can't have nice things," through his cackling as seungkwan pretends there's not a smile on his red stained mouth. he splits the blue popsicle and dyes his lips purple.

there's nothing special about this night, except there is something special about the way he can't take his eyes off seungkwan, a portrait with nighttime blurring his edges. he's probably alone in the feeling, in this state of half-sleep, but it’s a feeling nonetheless, stuck to the back of his throat amidst the sugar water, like words he thinks he should warn seungkwan he's always on the verge of saying.

he makes a joke, and though he's not sure what he says, floating somewhere under the stars with warmth that has nothing to do with mid-august, seungkwan laughs like its going out of style. his tongue is purple and vernon wants the color. 

seungkwan leans over and kisses him.

it's sticky and messy, and it's way too hot to be sitting this close, but for the short four seconds he's burning, burning, burning in this dream, enough to melt the ice cream in his hands all over his fingers. he drops it in his surprise, and when seungkwan pulls back, both their eyes land on the blue now sitting next to the red. vernon finds sounds and tries to make sense of them. 

"uhm... what."

seungkwan looks away, toward the distant sound of a ambulance siren. the curve of his face from this angle is something vernon knows to be a smile. "you looked like you wanted a kiss."

he's still caught thinking this is a dream. for all his loss for words, vernon manages, "i did."

it's a silent affair when seungkwan offers him a hand to stand, but it's real. it's real when they throw their popsicle sticks and wrappers in the trash and start back home. it's real, the stick of their fingers tangling over the plastic bag with their still uneaten coconut bar.

it's real, the second kiss he asks for, to make sure he's awake. his lips are stained purple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spaced-out gays... i'm with y'all


	4. seeped in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jigyu; prompt: the first night jigyu moved their beds (i didn't really understand the prompt the anon gave me but i tried my best... anonnie if ur out there. mwah)

"this is what you get for drinking so much of that nasty ass energy drink," mingyu says, without heat.

"i will break your kneecaps while you sleep, you long bitch," jihoon says back, without heat. 

mingyu rolls onto his side, away from jihoon, and props himself on one arm. for whatever reason, he's decided to lay on jihoon's bed instead of his own. his legs stretch across the small gap between their beds, like he's waiting for jihoon to complain about it, and out of spite jihoon does not. he can stay in that weird position if it so pleases him. "i like the room better this way."

"because you're afraid of heights."

"no!" mingyu protests. he's making that face again - brows lowered, lips pursed - and to save himself from it, like all the endearing things mingyu does, jihoon closes his eyes. "it's because the room is clean. and now there's less space for all that mess, so we can actually open the dressers. all we have to do is keep it clean."

right now, the sound of mingyu's voice is soothing, rough, and heavy with sleep - hearth is the word that comes to mind. a long time ago, when he actually tried to fix his bouts of insomnia, seungkwan had recommended a sound machine with a campfire setting. it did little, of course, but it was his favorite sound. perhaps it's the caffeine crash that's beating the shit out of him, but for a few beats he relaxes.

"we have to brush our teeth, hyung."

"bleagh," jihoon says back, but he relents when mingyu tugs him out of bed by his hands.

it's a quiet affair that they perform side by side in the bathroom. mingyu lifts his arm so jihoon can spit in the sink, and jihoon passes the cup of water so mingyu can rinse. by the time jihoon collapses face down halfway on his bed, he's okay with sleeping like this if it means it happens faster. 

"you're gonna suffocate like that," mingyu comments.

jihoon grunts, "stop me."

mingyu takes him by the wrists again - mingyu's always kind with his hands, gentle, like everything he holds is precious. jihoon wonders, as he's pulled into a proper position on his bed, if mingyu does it because he wants to be precious, if he could ever guess that he already is. what exactly does one call the feeling you get late at night when your heart is heavy like it's been seeped in ink? what do you call it if it's because of your best friend? 

he would call it impulse, if it's what makes him grip mingyu's hand and tug him back into his bed. he would call it exasperation, when he makes up the excuse, "it's right there. we might as well have the beds stuck together." he would call it natural, when mingyu's head rests on his chest, and his fingers come to rest on the nape of mingyu's neck, when mingyu's arm wiggles its way between his waist and the bed in a hug that will surely result in pins and needles in the morning. 

the real answer lies in the kiss mingyu brushes on his chest, through his shirt. he lets sleep fold the answer and pocket it, for a later date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jihoon you could just ask to be cuddled. stupidhead.


	5. keep close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jigyu; prompt: tired cuddling

by the time jihoon returns from the studio, mingyu is falling asleep to the background noise of hell's kitchen. 

he'd traded beds with wonwoo for the night, who was just looking for sleep, because jihoon had said they'd play smash together when he got back. obviously that wasn't exactly enough reason to try to force himself to stay awake by watching old episodes of gordon ramsay yelling at people, and jihoon states this as he stares down at mingyu. the lights are off - someone must have thought he was dozing off and taken it upon themselves - so he can only see the silhouette of jihoon against the television as his eyes try to adjust to the dark.

"well," mingyu mumbles, rubbing his eye. he's got a bit of drool running out of his mouth, and he wipes it off discreetly. "i'm still awake." 

jihoon tsks, much like a fond uncle, and crouches close to the head of the bed. "did you give bone boy your bed?"

"bone boy," mingyu repeats, laughter bubbling out of his throat. "wonwoo?"

"that's what i said."

mingyu starts cracking up, but he tries his best to keep it to himself. the most he can make out of jihoon's expression is his teeth bared in a grin. mingyu reaches to push his arm, and jihoon pushes his palm back with his own hand, so mingyu grabs on, all on automatic. nowadays, mingyu finds, jihoon will not let go, or perhaps mingyu holds on too tight. 

with a yawn, jihoon insists that this mattress is too small for the both of them. it's hard to say no to jihoon, because this is jihoon after all, but mingyu offers alternatives that go completely ignored in favor of climbing on top of him and using his body like a pillow. 

"we could just go back to your bed," mingyu suggests. there's heat building over his neck and ears, and he's lucky the dark keeps this from being obvious. given how warm he is, though, he's sure jihoon can feel it. 

"your snoring will rattle bone boy. i'm not into bone sounds."

"first of all," mingyu starts, bristling, "i don't snore that loud-"

"you do-"

"second of all, you're on top of me. you're gonna hear it loudest." jihoon snickers at this, settling his chest on mingyu's stomach and pillowing his head on his arms. the shadows on his face make him look like a thieving fox, but all he's really stealing is all of mingyu's attention. 

"i'm used to it."

"what if i need to move?"

"sounds like-" jihoon stops, words falling with another large yawn. "-sounds like a you problem."

it takes a bit of bravery for mingyu to put his hands on jihoon, but jihoon must be far too tired to make a fuss at being manhandled. of course he does nothing to stop it; it's only when mingyu shifts them to a more favorable position for sleep that he reacts by throwing his leg over mingyu's thigh and burying his face in mingyu's neck.

"you're trapped now," jihoon croaks. "you move, you die."

it's harmless, mostly teasing, but mingyu's last coherent thought, with jihoon breathing hot on his throat, is that jihoon has no idea how right he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> need me a freak who will come lay on top of me and demand all of my attention 
> 
> mingyu gay


	6. constants and variables

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: gyuhoon ◇ (forehead or cheek kisses!!) <3

pry mingyu's head open, and you'd probably find a lot of half-finished sentences and odd thoughts stopped by filters and walls he never thought he might be using. behind one of those walls, in the back, would be a compiled (still compiling) list of impossibly endearing things jihoon does.

like this newly returned addition: jihoon on his stomach, phone in hand with the screen still unlocked, alternating between scrolling with his thumb and letting his head list off into the crook of his elbow. it’s a game, and a challenging one at that, for mingyu to control the lurch of his heart and try not to coo or laugh or do both, which would make things weird. 

he says loudly, "hyung, are you falling asleep?"

a beat too long, and jihoon mumbles, "nuh."

mingyu does laugh, this time, just a giggle at the back of his throat that he stifles mostly because he doesn't want to draw so much of jihoon's attention that he notices it's at his expense. "are you sure?"

"uh-huh," jihoon says, slides his gaze over to mingyu in the bathroom doorway. with his eyelids that low, mingyu can see the slightly smeared eye makeup still waiting to be removed. 

"you haven't taken off your makeup."

jihoon doesn't say anything, rolling slowly on his side and dropping his phone next to his head half buried in the sheets. they share a moment of simply looking at each other, and as always, mingyu's easy to cave to jihoon’s demands even if he has yet to ask. there's probably a list somewhere in jihoon's head of things he knows about mingyu, the first item of which is mingyu’s physical inability to deny jihoon. 

jihoon rolls off the bed when mingyu waves a beckoning hand, shuffling past him and tugging him along by the front of his t-shirt, like mingyu would somehow escape, like they don't somehow perform a different version of this same dance nearly every night. constants and variables, one might say: mingyu rolling his eyes halfheartedly, jihoon hopping on the counter and smiles in equal parts shame and smugness, and the both of them treading recklessly into each other’s territories, all regularly scheduled tests of will for mingyu.

the change, then, is jihoon’s hold on his shirt, pulling him closer tonight. his eyes fall shut again, and mingyu nearly fumbles the bottle of micellar water in his hands, dripping too much onto a cotton round and getting his fingers wet. 

“i hope you realize i don’t get paid to do this.” mingyu tilts jihoon’s relaxed face up, pushes his hair back from his face, and jihoon leans into his palm, head fitting perfectly into the cradle.

“do you want to get paid?” jihoon drawls easily. His hand moves from the front of his shirt to the side, find an idle motion to follow, waist, hip, waist, hip. mingyu feels like he might be approaching some form of dying.

pry mingyu’s head open, once more, and you’d probably find, behind a wall behind the list of endearing things jihoon does, the way in which jihoon’s existence slips in between mingyu’s ribs and circles around his heart, a slow moving mammal waiting for what it knows already exists to come to light. mingyu is 24 and all his feelings come rushing up to his face like he’s still the wide-eyed 17 year old flushed red with a crush on his hyung.

it’s a good thing jihoon’s got his eyes closed, else he’d see all of it written in neon ink across mingyu’s expression. for now, he gets the same exact, “hurry up, i’m tired,” from jihoon that he ignores in the same exact way to chart the softness of jihoon’s mouth with his fingertips under the excuse of making sure all the lip tint is gone. once he’s had his fill, he steps back, so jihoon doesn’t go cross-eyed when he opens them. constants -

\- and variables; jihoon hooks a heel around the back of his thigh, and it stalls him. he nudges in and mingyu trips so close he’s caged in between jihoon’s knees, and before he can think about what’s happening, jihoon drags him with the heat of his palm curled around the back of his neck, and presses a hasty kiss on his forehead. 

for a minute, mingyu’s just a head filled with tv static, watching jihoon watch him back. his ears feel as warm as jihoon’s look, and growing redder, and eventually jihoon speaks up, “since you wanted to get paid, and all.”

mingyu bites down on his lip to hold back the smile taking over his mouth, and it seems to make the situation worse for jihoon. he pushes up into mingyu’s space, bumping him back bodily, and mingyu simply can’t stop smiling now, can’t do anything about his heart tumbling around the cavity of his chest, four sizes too large. he makes a noise, like he’s really dying, and blurts, “hyung, you’re so lame-”

“you’re ungrateful!” jihoon splutters. he pushes at mingyu, and mingyu lets himself be manhandled out of the bathroom, all his feelings starting to falling everywhere, unhindered by walls and filters. jihoon slams the door shut behind him, and mingyu’s added yet another thing to his list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was so cheesy nd embarassing i dont want to talk about it

**Author's Note:**

> these are some short half stories i wrote to prompts sent to my cc
> 
> please go easy in me, it's my first time posting 
> 
> im @hyungthot in twitter and my curious cat is @ravetheking 
> 
> title from Clip by Bolbbalgan4


End file.
